


come and kiss me here

by liesmith



Series: stray (fake chop) [5]
Category: Cow Chop
Genre: Fake Chop, M/M, dudes playing russian roulette 5 feet apart cuz they're not gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 19:21:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11470047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liesmith/pseuds/liesmith
Summary: so their relationship is a little strained, you know, in the way that they only kiss when there's adrenaline making their hearts beatorthey play a game, and james maybe wins





	come and kiss me here

It was Aleks’ idea, like everything is his idea. The car crashes that make Brett yell at them (mostly Aleks, though) for hours, the fires in abandoned factories and warehouses and hot deserts, the “rifle practice” in Death Valley with each other as the target, the knife fights that cut them for weeks, small scars counting track of who's winning the war.

So there really isn’t any surprise that Aleks comes to him with a revolver, spinning the chamber and giving James a wicked grin. Makes his stomach flip and his heart slam into overdrive.

“Sure. Let’s play.”

Aleks keeps that wicked grin the whole time and leaves with the revolver. Says he’s gonna give it to Joe to load, so James knows he’s not fixing the game or something. Comes back, sits across from James on the couch cross-legged and tilts his head.

“What if one of us really dies?”

“What? You’re concerned now?” James is incredulous. Now of all times Aleks has a conscious and doesn’t want to die, of all the times they’ve done fucked up shit before, now Aleks worries? “You’re kidding, right?”

“Well, I dunno. It’s gonna suck if one of us dies.”

“You fucking moron.”

“Hey, Aleks,” Joe pipes up from somewhere behind them and Aleks turns, getting up from the couch and retrieving the gun, “you guys aren’t gonna do anything, right?”

“Maybe leave the warehouse,” Aleks laughs, tries to pass it off as a joke, but when Joe glances at James, he realizes it’s not.

Still, Joe just awkwardly laughs and moves, possibly, the fastest James has ever seen out of the main room. Damn. Even Joe knows this is fucked up.

But James is already too far gone. Aleks sits across from him again and holds out a fist, looking at James expectantly. The drill. James holds his fist out and on the silent count of three they play rock, paper, scissors. James wins with paper and Aleks sighs, looking dramatic as he looks down at the revolver.

“Seriously, if I die, Brett gets Mishka.”

“That weirdo gets nothing.”

“Whatever, man,” And Aleks doesn’t even hesitate, holds it to his temple and pulls the trigger. Nothing. He seems to visibly deflate, and James isn’t sure if he was actually hoping it was loaded. But, fuck. That just means it’s his turn. His heart is hammering and he’s pretty sure Aleks can hear it, but he still takes the revolver, the gun feeling like a thousand pounds in his hand.

Oh, fuck.

“Do it, pussy.”

“Fuck you,” James mumbles, looking up at Aleks and giving a half-hearted glare, “you’re such a shit.”

He raises, swallows, pulls. Nothing. James tries to conceal how shaky his hand is when he gives the revolver back to Aleks, who covers James’ hand with his own before pulling the gun away, tossing it up into the air and clumsily catching it.

“Ok, cool. So we’re both still alive.”

“I really hate this, Aleksandr.”

“Yeah, me too,” Aleks puts the gun to his temple again and pulls. Nothing. He laughs, but James can hear the the nerves in it. Shit. They’re really gonna do this, huh? Aleks is just holding the gun out, loose in his grasp, and James takes it, looking down at it. Tosses it just a fraction up, as if he can test the weight, see where the bullet is and predict who gets it.

Instead James lifts it and pulls. He shouts, some sort of charged energy at being victorious once more, and drops the revolver in his lap. Aleks leans forward and James thinks it’s for the gun, but he bypasses it entirely, hands pushing down on James’ knees as he kisses him, all teeth, and James responds in the like, eyes squeezing shut and mouth falling open, and Aleks takes the initiative to let his tongue trace over James’ bottom lip, into his mouth, let it run along his bottom teeth. Fuck. His heart’s hammering and his head’s pounding and, oh, fuck, this is too much.

James pulls back in a hurry, half because he forgot to breath, and half because they’re still in the warehouse, and if someone was to walk in-

“What’s up?” Aleks says, suddenly, blinking at James and only getting closer into his personal space, which makes James lean back just slightly, against the arm of the couch, “second thoughts?”

“We’re in… the warehouse,” James has his voice at a hushed, urgent whisper, gesturing around with one hand, “dude, we don’t do that kind of shit in here.”

“Nobody’s here.”

“Joe is! And, I dunno, the other’s can always come in! You know how they are.”

“Joe’s dumb, and the others are busy. Isn’t Trevor and Jakob scoping out that bank?” Aleks raises an eyebrow, and James gives a small glare. He’s at least right, but still. It’s the _warehouse_. It’s like a weird, sacred place. You don’t touch dicks in the warehouse.

But Aleks is getting closer into his personal space, and James can only go so far back before they’re chest to chest, Aleks’ shoulders squared, and James exhales a breath he wasn’t realizing he was holding that whole time. The sound makes Aleks grin, wicked in its intention, and James tries to reason with himself, to not kiss Aleks, but of course his dick wins, and he kisses Aleks, takes a handful of the shirt he’s wearing and drags him in close, and Aleks, because he has to have the last laugh, grins into the kiss. Fucking prick.

It doesn’t last long, Aleks breaking it this time, hands insistent and pushy against James.

“Dude, fuck, what? What do you want?”

“Let me fuck you.”

“What?! No!”

“Yeah, c’mon. Nobody’s here,” Aleks is a little more pushy, knocking the revolver out of James’ lap and replacing it with himself, knees bracketing his thighs, sitting tall, and James… kind of hates how it takes his breath away, like as if he hasn’t seen Aleks a thousand times, and...

“Fuck it. Fine,” James agrees, feeling that rush of excited fear he felt earlier at the sight of the revolver in Aleks’ hands, “yeah, ok. Fine.”

Aleks looks a little taken aback, clearly not expecting James to agree without more of a fight. “... Shit, cool. You hold the phone, I’ll be right back,” And he’s off, elbowing James in the chest as he nearly trips over himself in the act of getting up, takes measured steps to the shoulder bag left by the fridge. He crouches down and digs through it for a moment before James realizes, what the fuck, he brought lube, of all god damn things, and just holds his face in his hands.

“Seriously?” He asks, muffled behind his hands, “you just fucking had that?”

“Well, I mean. I know how these things go.”

“Like a fucking dog,” James lowers his hands, steadies his gaze with Aleks, whose returned to the couch, “you get used to one thing and it’s all you think about.”

“You should be so lucky it’s you,” Aleks responds back, and James has to bite his tongue. Prick. Always has to have the last word. He doesn’t have it in him to fight right now, anyways.

Instead, James leans back, head against the arm of the couch. Aleks drops the lube besides them on the couch and takes his time, rucks up James’ shirt just slightly and lays his hands on his stomach, beginning to press hurried, insistent little kisses against his jaw, down his neck, over his sternum, and… fuck, James hates this. Aleks knows how to push all his damn buttons, hands splaying over his ribs, lips just pressing idle kisses over his collarbone, as if they have all the fucking time in the world here. 

James guesses they could, but the tightness in his pants is reminding him they really don’t, so he pushes at Aleks’ head, annoyed. “Dude, hurry up.”

“Why?”

“Because anyone can walk in on us!”

“Yeah, whatever. It’s just making you harder. Talk about me being conditioned, look at you,” Aleks pulled one hand out from under James’ shirt, reaching down to lay his palm against him, weight enough to makes James feel him too much and not enough, and he tries to not give into absolute desperation, but his hips squirm briefly, and that’s all Aleks needs.

Both his hands drop to James’ pants, flick the button open and then the zipper, folding the jeans down delicately and… James head spins at how Aleks goes from 0 to 10, both hands on him, palming and stroking and giving brief little jerks, each touch more hurried then the last, as if Aleks just can’t get enough and doesn’t know what to touch first. They kiss again, a little less frantic than Aleks’ hands, and James relaxes just slightly, eyes closing and returning the kiss a little hard, a hand reaching up to cup the back of Aleks’ neck before sliding his fingers into the short hair, curling them just so.

The kiss is only broken when James yanks Aleks’ head back, startled when cold fingers press against his cock, then against him, rubbing in tight circles.

“S-Shit! Fuck, don’t you have enough money for the warming shit?”

“Won’t waste that on you,” Aleks shrugs, “only good girls get that.”

“Fuck you,” James grit his teeth, shuddering as a finger carefully pressed into him, curling just slightly, “fuck you so much, Aleksandr.”

“Yeah, I’d really love too, but that’s too much work,” Aleks sighs, giving James only a moment to get used to him before pressing a second inside, touching their foreheads together, nose bumping just slightly into James’, “You’ll come no matter how we do it, so don’t worry.”

James, out of spite, wants to find a way to deny Aleks that, but it’s hard to focus when he’s being fucked open so carefully, Aleks’ fingers in a steady rhythm of thrusts, spreading inside of James, clearly trying to search for his spot.

“You’re… so goddamn impatient,” James manages after a breath, though he’s no better, hips rocking back just slightly, “bitch about nobody bein’ here, then you go and rush everything…”

Aleks rolls his eyes, and instead of answering, presses a third finger into James, and kisses him again. Asshole. James still responds though, dropping his hand from Aleks’ hair to between his shoulder blades, curling his fingers in the fabric of his shirt and sighing out into the kiss, focusing on this instead of Aleks’ fingers thrusting into him, of Aleks’ warm hand wrapping back around him. Kissing like this makes him forget that Aleks sucks just a little less than usual.

James forgoes rocking back, deciding to focus instead on the loose fist around him, the way Aleks presses his thumb against the spot under his tip and rubs, and fuck, that’s good, makes James whimper into the kiss. Aleks makes a noise that James hears as a purr, fingers pressing deep and upwards, and James falls _apart_. Being teased like that makes him shudder and gasp, breaking the kiss to tilt his head back and cover his face with his arms, cock twitching and leaking from the tip. Fuck, fuck, that was dirty, and Aleks knew it, letting his lips trail from the corner of James’ mouth and down his chin and to his neck.

James immediately wants to protest when he realizes what Aleks is doing, but he’s already mouthing at his pulse, teeth grazing over the skin. Ah, fuck… James squirms a little, feeling his stomach twist and curl. Aleks was still teasing his spot, his loose hand just squeezing gently around James’ cock, and fuck, James tries so hard to muffle his shout when he comes, body shaking.

He’s way too tired to even protest Aleks just wipes both dirty hands off on his shirt; James always keeps spares around here, anyways. He just lazes out, letting his arms drop to his chest as he squints at Aleks, who is sitting back on his legs, an arm outstretched over the back of the couch.

“Asshole.”

“Really, dude? You’re a dick, I just made you cum,” Aleks rolls his eyes and shifts his weight, finally settling on his bottom on the couch, leaning against the other arm, legs to his chest to make room for James, “you should be a little more appreciative.”

“Don’t care,” James mumbles, waving a hand, “you’re a fucking nightmare, Aleksandr.”

Aleks just grins and leans back on an arm, head cocked. “There’s still two shots left in the gun, if you really wanna go there, James.”

And James can’t help but not think about that, the revolver left on the floor, and just covers his face with a hand.

“You win,” And Aleks laugh is enough to make James hate him, just a little more.

**Author's Note:**

> adrenline... bois.... kissing.... when they crash cars.... and try to kill each other... ya'll can kick me out of the fandom literally any time
> 
> all this shits blurring together so i give up on any coherent timeline for any of this fake chop shit. they all exist and don't at the same time


End file.
